


what if the whole world finds you waiting?

by parthevia



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parthevia/pseuds/parthevia
Summary: Perhaps Ja'far would never love Sinbad. The King was willing to deal with such an idea, if he needed to, but luckily for him, that simply wasn't the case.Or, in which Ja'far tells Sinbad he loves him for the first time.
Relationships: Jafar/Sinbad (Magi)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	what if the whole world finds you waiting?

_all the years i missed your warmth._

* * *

If you had told Ja'far twenty years ago that he would be diligently working by candlelight, methodically analyzing every work of the scrolls that needed to be comprehended and adequately responded to by sunrise, he would've stared at you with his snake-like slits of eyes and barked a laugh. Two decades ago, he didn't know how to read, much less understand something on a page. This, however, wasn't the most shocking thing that would have made him as an adolescent snort. It was the fact that his fingertips were quivering with exhaustion, and his eyelids were dangerously close to submitting to their desperation of slumber . . . but he did not give in, absorbed in his duties as none other than Sinbad's head advisor. 

The door creaked open, as the flame danced along, displaying the evident shadow of his guest—— nobody would bother him this late other than him, but Ja'far didn't give him so much as a glance. His king was here merely to distract, as usual, and he had become particularly skillful at ignoring him, or so he thought. . . but, a weight was now draped around his tired shoulders, heated breath interrupting any possible thoughts he had previously as it was directly next to his ear. "My dearest General," it spoke, thick with the similar exhaustion that had settled itself into Ja'far's body. "It's much too late, please accompany me to bed." Sinbad was behind him, arms placed nicely around his neck, resting the mass upon his smaller body. "Don't protest. I'm tired, you're tired. Come." 

Any other day, Ja'far would have likely protested, pushing the calloused hands out of his view and shooing him away. But even he had a limit, occasionally, and he couldn't suppress the fond smile sprouting upon his lips at the thought of being blessed with rest. "Fine," he replied, closing the scroll and tying the red string to keep it from furling. "You're lucky I'm tired enough to obey, you know." A chuckle was given in response, and Sinbad moved to blow out the candle, leaving the pair in the bask of the moon. Ja'far got to his feet, and wasted no time in exiting the office quarters, surely to Sinbad's surprise—— never was this man so eager to leave his duties for the morning, but there was a first for everything. 

Proceeding to Sinbad's chambers, the door clicked shut behind them, and Ja'far couldn't help but feel the rose blush dusting his cheeks as he knew he was being watched by his King, searching through the wardrobe for an adequate nightgown to don. He hadn't gotten used to being in the same bedroom as Sinbad, even if it had been months since they had finally confessed. Shedding his robes, he couldn't help but immediately melt into the silken sheets that were spread on the plush bed once redressed. Ja'far was still so painstakingly shy, unable to bring himself to be the first to initiate any sort of intimacy with Sinbad, yet. So, he was more than pleased when the muscular, tanned arms pulled him close, breathing in the famous scent of the High King of the Seven Seas—— it was uniquely _Sinbad._ He didn't know how he spent so long without being enraptured in this man, because he was certain he would never wish for anything more.

"I can almost feel how exhausted you are." Sinbad teased, fingertips creeping up the fabric to press against his skin. Ja'far always felt as though Sinbad's touch set his skin to flames, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get over this crush, even when it was now his reality. With his pale, freckled nose pressed into Sinbad's bare chest, his small fist was placed in the middle of it. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, Ja'far?" The voice was husky and private, the syllables of his name sending a chill up his lithe spine. "Because you are. Every little beauty mark, every scar," he knew that the pad of Sinbad's finger was running against one of the imperfections of his skin as he spoke. "I'll never get enough of you." 

It was well known that Sinbad was incredibly charming, but outside of his ability to make a woman blush vermillion in the matter of a few words, Ja'far knew a side of him that never left these sheets. "Sin," his face unburrowed itself from against his King, darkened gaze directed up into a hazel one. "There's no need to flatter me, I'm already entirely yours." Never one to accept the compliments, he could see the glimmer of Sinbad's radiant smile through the dim room. His white hair was now being violated, the tufts being ruffled out of their usual place, and he couldn't deny that he leaned into the touch. 

Sinbad held him impossibly close, a free arm tucked underneath Ja'far's light frame, resting on the small of his back as the other toyed with the coarse locks. "If I wanted to fluster you, I know more than better how to. I'm just telling you exactly what I'm thinking, my love." Their naked legs were intertwined, and slowly but surely, the shallowed breathing began to sync. While Ja'far was notorious for being addicted to his work for the Kingdom, he couldn't deny how much he adored this moments in the lull of the twilight. 

In fact, he was so enamored with the feeling, he could feel his cheeks becoming embarrassingly heated, with tears welling up in his eyes. In an attempt to hide it from his lover, he returned to pressing his face against Sinbad's chest, stupidly forgetting that the moisture was sure to be felt by the man. Sure enough, Sinbad was immediately concerned. "Ja'far? Hey—— what're you. . . did I do something?" His golden gaze was directed downwards, and Ja'far could feel it boring into him, quickly looking back at him. A gentle stream had found its way down his snowy cheeks, and he couldn't hold back his near-inaudible sniffle. 

Nothing had ever made him nearly as emotional as the one and only Sinbad, and that was exactly the problem. Ja'far genuinely believed that he would never be permitted to _feel,_ so these last few months had been some of the most surprising of all. As someone who grew up with that unwaivering anger consistently bubbling in his chest, he couldn't help but become excessively overwhelmed when that rage dissipated. In these moments, Sinbad made everything _okay._ There were no fears of losing control, at least in that way. 

"I. . . I just——" Ja'far stammered, unsure of how to explain this phenomenon to his savior. "I'm in love with you, Sinbad." 

Now this, was unchartered territory. They'd been sexually intimate, with hushed murmurs of each other's names and cries out in orgasmic rush, and they surely knew each other better than anyone else in the world, but never once had either uttered the near forbidden statement. It was assumed that Sinbad would have broken that first, not the emotionless, irritable one that was Ja'far. 

Sinbad stared, his lips sealed shut as he seemingly began to process this, which didn't take long. Suddenly encased in warmth, Ja'far was caught in a searing embrace, and it was almost dizzying in nature. He loved this man. He loved the King of Sindria, despite the difficulties accompanied with it. Ja'far loved Sinbad, even with the moral ambiguity, the uncertainty of his actions, the distaste in some of the things his King decided. . . he loved him. 

"I've loved you for so fucking long," was being murmured against his ear, almost being crushed in the grasp he was placed in. "I have loved you for so long, Ja'far, since I held you the first time, since I promised that I'd be your home—— Ja'far. . ." It was uncommon for Sinbad to become this exasperated, and Ja'far was certain he was near tears, too. "I didn't know if you could ever love me, I . . . I didn't want to push this, I didn't want to make you feel as though you had to, but I. . ." 

The first time Ja'far had ever felt warmth was when Sinbad promised him a future. Not one that was riddled with anger, with red strings and ice. "I love you, Sin." His own arms were wrapped to the best of their ability around his partner's neck, now, with his own breath steadying against Sinbad's ear. "Do you. . . do you really think you had loved someone like me?"

"Of course, Ja'far, I can't imagine loving anyone _but_ you, you know." 

With a nod in response, they were both certain. Perhaps it wasn't what either of them deserved, but it was never much about deserving, after all. It was about what was inherently destined to happen. 


End file.
